


Wither and Bloom

by mollyroll



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (vaguely) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Crack Treated Seriously, Don't copy to another site, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), M/M, Pining, light side toastkkuno, no beta we die like the impostors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:39:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27721537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollyroll/pseuds/mollyroll
Summary: Corpse was the god of the dead, King of the Underworld, helplessly in love with the god of springtime, betrothed to another.
Relationships: Corpse Husband/Sykkuno (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 304
Collections: Server Simps





	Wither and Bloom

"Ooohhhhh you've got it _bad,_ sister."

Corpse hadn’t even heard the other enter the room. He ripped his gaze away from the scrying bowl, narrowed eyes taking in the god of witchcraft’s infuriating smirk. _Fucking perfect._ Before the other could get any closer, he banged his fist on the wooden table with enough force that ripples formed across the water’s surface, dissolving the image into nothingness. Not that it would hide his shame, the other knew full well what he was up to.

"James, what did I say about knocking?" Any other being would have recoiled from his scathing gaze, but it never really quite worked with James. They had been raised as siblings, and he knew perfectly how to get under his skin.

James’s upper lip curled further as he glided over to retrieve his bowl, thin fingers inspecting it for damage. Corpse was a _brute_ , after all… The god of witchcraft had always been insufferable about his delicate instruments. Corpse’s hands curled into fists, he could feel the prick of his blunt nails digging into his skin with every passing second. No one else would dare confront him in his own domains.

"Hey, relax. I’m just getting my stuff back." James waved his hand over the lit candles that surrounded the bowl, extinguishing them. For all that he tried to deny it, Corpse could see behind his actions. There was no mockery this time, just a faint hint of worry in his voice… 

“Yeah...whatever.” How long had it been since he sat down and set up the arrangement? The sun had been up on the reflection when he started the session, though it had long since disappeared by now… And he had watched _him_ sit down and have a picnic by himself as he took a break in his journey… It had to have been several hours, at the very least. The thick candles had almost completely melted into waxy puddles on his desk. And come to think of it, his eyes felt pretty tired…

“Seriously though, just talk to _him_ already!” James huffed, dipping his hand on the water and sprinkling some droplets onto the other’s face, snapping him out of his reverie. “You’ve been stalking that poor man for ages!”

“It’s not stalking.” Annoyed, and most definitely not sulking, Corpse wiped at his face. The memory of the last thing he had seen haunted him. His… _friend_ ... had arrived late at night at _someone else’s_ home bearing a freshly made bouquet of flowers.

“Then what do you call this?” The other’s voice sounded strained, almost measured. As if Corpse would ever get angry enough at him to shut him out completely.

“It’s… Look, James,” He sighed deeply, voice full of resignation. “I’m just watching out for him, you know he likes going out alone at night…”

“I didn’t take you for a guardian angel.” 

“I want to make sure he is safe, that is all.” It sounded like a lie even to his own ears, but he was sticking to his guns.

“You do know your dear childhood friend is also a god, right?” James raised an eyebrow at him. “He can take care of himself.” 

Corpse didn’t have an answer to that.

Once long ago, when the land was still young, a being named Corpse appeared in the Realm. As any other baby deity, he was quickly swaddled by the nearest adult and taken to the Oracle. They would soon find it was unnecessary. 

Back then only a handful of gods existed, and they went to great efforts to find others of their kind and raise them. To say they lived in chaos was an understatement, they needed as much help as they could get. The Oracle was key in determining a young god's fate, so as to better understand their power. In Corpse's case though, it was obvious. As he was carried up the mountain and into the Temple, the vegetation surrounding them withered and crumbled into dust. 

The Oracle didn't even need to look at him. 

_This child is meant to be the King of the Underworld. He will preside over death and deliver judgement._

In the few years he was allowed to stay with the others of his kind, it grew clear they didn't want him around. He was nothing but a gloomy child who had to be kept away from lesser beings, as his mere presence was enough to kill them. He was destined to perform the most unclean duties, so the Realm wouldn't get overrun by the souls of long deceased mortals. As quickly as they could, they shipped him off across the Realm and into the Underworld to fend for himself. 

The Underworld had been empty when he first arrived. He had been around eight in human years, though deities aged differently. Two river nymphs begrudgingly assumed his guardianship, inviting him into their humble abode. The only existing structure in the Underworld, hastily put together with rotting wooden planks. They had their work cut out for them, they would have to build an entire Kingdom all by themselves. Not only that, Corpse would need to learn how to control the destructiveness of his powers, as many of their first underlings dropped dead for daring to stand too close. A system had to be put in place and fast, otherwise chaos would reign supreme. They wouldn't see the light of the sun in decades. 

The first years of the King of the Underworld, god of the dead, the unseen, the wealthy one were miserable, spent in abject poverty, forced to be alone, sitting on a makeshift throne he didn’t want, sentencing human souls he didn’t care about, and bored out of his mind as there were no other children around. 

The Underworld was nothing but stagnant air and rot. Before James arrived and added even more responsibilities to his already huge list of tasks, Corpse would occasionally sneak past the gates and onto the surface in search of fresh air and starlight. Back then, there were no guards at the entrance. And even if there had been any, they would have been powerless to stop the King from leaving his domains. 

Even if said King was four feet tall, undernourished, and dressed in rags, he was powerful enough to uphold the seal that kept human souls and other _undesirables_ in their place.

It was in one of those nightly escapades that he met _him_. Corpse had been walking aimlessly through the forest, bare feet sinking into the earth with each step. The full moon shone bright up above, enough that he didn’t feel scared being alone. He hadn’t noticed the other at first, not until he started moving, at least. Corpse hid behind a tree, mesmerized. The other boy looked younger, if only by a few years. Healthier, clad in warm and colourful fabrics. And the brightness of his smile shone like the sun. He was twirling under the moon in an empty clearing, flowers bloomed under his feet, leafy shoots sprung all around him as he spun in circles. 

Then he knelt down, placing both hands on one of the frail shoots, his face scrunched in concentration. Corpse's eyes widened as the plant glowed faintly, then doubled in size. He couldn’t remember ever meeting _anyone_ with the power to create, rather than destroy. Guiltily he looked up at the tree that had served as his hiding place. What had once been a lively oak was now a husk of its former self, its leaves dried and beginning to rot. The other boy hadn’t noticed him, and he desperately wanted to play with him, he seemed friendly and Corpse really wanted a friend…

Despite knowing he was dangerous to be around, as his guardians had repeated so many times before, he moved forward into the clearing with measured steps. The dry vegetation crunched under his feet as he walked. The other boy looked up at him startled, then confused as he noticed the withered plants surrounding him. His big, brown eyes filled with tears.

"...Hi." Corpse waved in what he hoped was a non threatening way, standing a respectable distance away from him, too scared to get any closer. 

"What did you do to my flowers?!" His voice broke with a sob.

"I'm sorry! I… it's my power…"

Just like that his tears vanished. “Mama says everyone has different powers and that is okay!” 

“What is a _mama?_ ” Corpse frowned at the unfamiliar word, but the other boy hadn’t heard him. Deep in thought, he picked one flower from the ground, twirling it between his fingers until it bloomed with petals and colour, then handed it to Corpse.

He flinched, the other boy had moved too fast for him to react. But he didn’t seem in pain, as the others had been. He looked down, the little flower had withered before even touching his fingers, but Corpse took it anyway, gently, so as not to crush the first gift he had ever been given. He had killed it, as he had killed many other creatures. He had never asked for this. He could feel his eyes sting with tears. If he got close enough, he would probably also kill the other boy.

"Hey, hey don't cry, it's okay! Flowers are easy, see?" The other spoke with a smile as he plopped down on the ground and more tiny flowers appeared. "Trees are hard… but mama says I'll one day be strong enough to create forests! So don't be sad if a flower dies, I can make more!”

“No… this flower is perfect… thank you.” Corpse held the tiny shrivelled flower like a lifeline, biting his lip to stop the sobs that threatened to break out. He took tiny steps to create distance between them.

The other just smiled a dazzling smile. “What's your name?"

He rubbed at his face, feeling his sleeves dampen a little. "I'm Corpse."

"Hi Mr. Corpse! My name is Sykkuno!"

Sykkuno was younger than him, but he was powerful too. At the time Corpse didn’t understand the difference, but he would later learn his new friend was a god as well. The god of springtime, flowers, and vegetation. The only other he could get close enough to hug without hurting, at least before he learned to control his power. His very first friend, long before James was shipped off to live with them.

They would meet most nights and run around, Sykkuno leaving trails of flowers and Corpse chasing after him, destroying everything in his path. But Sykkuno didn’t mind. He would weave flowers into crowns for both so they could match, then when his friend’s got all dry and wilted they would lay down on the grass and laugh about it. He was Corpse’s first and only friend, until one day he wasn’t anymore. He never knew why, but Sykkuno one day was gone, just like that. He waited and waited, returning day after day but there were no signs of his friend. He walked as far as he could before his control on the dead began slipping, then walked some more out of pure anger and betrayal. Then one day he just stopped going out anymore.

When James met the King, years later, he thought he was an asshole. He never smiled, never cracked jokes, and after his duties were complete he holed himself up in his room to do who knows what. It took years of effort to finally warm up to him, though to be fair he still was kind of an asshole. Corpse’s three-headed dog was also an asshole, in James’ humble opinion. 

James was fortunate. When he arrived at the Underworld they had an actual palace to live in, albeit a small one. The Elysium had been separated from the Asphodel meadows, mourning fields, and Tartarus. Guards had been set to ensure souls remained where they were meant to be. A toll was set in place so human souls would need to pay one gold coin for the privilege of getting judged, because hey, the upkeep of their operation came at a cost. Overall, a pretty okay place to be.

James never really understood the other’s fascination for Sykkuno. He had met him once at Olympus, shortly before he took the month-long journey to the gates of the underworld. He seemed like an okay person, pretty shy, pretty cute. He wore a flower in his hair and trailed petals as he walked. Just another regular junior god, in James’ opinion. But something shone in Corpse’s eyes whenever the other was mentioned, and as his psychic power grew he came to the realization that something was infatuation. 

For his eighteenth birthday, James called Corpse into his study. Without an explanation, he set up the scrying bowl and found the god of springtime, working on the fields somewhere up on the surface. He turned to Corpse to find the other wide-eyed, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. He backed his chair away as the other approached, disbelief in his eyes as he stared at the image in the bowl. He moved forward to touch it, James meant to stop him, but then the tip of his finger touched the water and the image dissolved into nothingness.

Corpse fell to his knees, clutching James’s hands in his.

“Please… teach me how to do that…”

Corpse never said _please_ , so who was James to deny him that one wish.

He had no way of knowing that one thing would soon develop into a routine. Every night, like clockwork, he would find Corpse in _his_ study (the nerve!), all but _stalking_ the other junior god. No matter how many times he repeated it was _creepy,_ the other waved off his concerns saying he was just making sure nothing bad happened to Sykkuno. For a second James would entreat the mental image of the earth cracking apart in a cloud of dirt and miasma to reveal Corpse upon a black carriage, whisking the other god away to safety from an unseen attacker. The amusement would die when he saw the sadness in his friend’s eyes. It was the same sadness he saw in human souls sent to the meadows of mourning, all unrequited lovers destined to suffer for eternity. 

This had to stop.

His resolve to snap Corpse out of it only increased one day years later, when the very ground below their feet shook with a sharp tremor. The walls of the gate crumbled to dust, servants dropped dead, just evaporated, as James ran towards Corpse’s rooms, half convinced he would find his brother deceased.

Instead, he found him slouched over on the chair, scrying bowl shattered at his feet, candles all blown out, water all over what were once important documents. He wouldn’t speak, but his mind was screaming out the reason he had lost control of his powers.

_Sykkuno was engaged to be married._

**Author's Note:**

> This is very loosely based off greek mythology, a friend and I were talking about our fave AUs and they mentioned Corpse would make a good god of the dead so here we are!  
> In this world deities appear when they are needed (ie, no weird inc**ty vibes in this fic thanks), Corpse is a little older than James and Sykkuno but they're all still considered juniors  
> The first scene takes place months before the final scene  
> Hope the rest makes sense!  
> I also really wanted to put them both in flower crowns, with Corpse's all withered and dry
> 
> Would you guys like to pick the direction of the story? We did a thing with my fic On Matchmaking where I post two paths the story can take and you guys pick your favourite, I have a loose outline for this fic too so if you'd like us to do that for this fic too let me know!
> 
> I've got some notes for other characters that will be added, right now we have Corpse as Hades, Sykkuno as Persephone, James Charles as Hecate, Toast as a harvest god inspired by Demeter, feel free to suggest others :)


End file.
